Marathon Log.07.  Miles logged: 10

Ten miles ain't a walk in the park.  I probably should have had greater reverence for a run of that distance, because for the first time during this whole thing I'm feeling a bit stiff.  My ambitious self tried running again today, but I quickly had to stop because of a sharp pain that started in my calf (a pain I only feel when I run).  I decided it was better not to fight it.

My question this week is what battles do I choose to fight?  Things that have crossed my path recently--

Don't let anyone pass you.

I have this wildly competitive streak that manages to rear its ugly head once in awhile.  They tend not to be my finer moments.  I had a minor one last Monday as I was running.  I was for sure not going to let this guy pass me (see, he had already passed me up, and then I had passed him up).  I could feel his footsteps gaining so I kicked in high gear, and I held him off.  That was one battle I was determined to win.

I just don't care.

My Chinese laoshi (teacher) called me last week.  I didn't do the midterm because I was sick the week prior.  She called asking if I could do my midterm exam over the phone (it's a conversational class) since she needed to input a grade for me at midterm.  I told her no, that I wasn't up to doing it and that she could give me whatever because I'm not taking the class for a grade (just where exactly would I take these city college grades to?).  She then lectured about giving me a sympathy "B" since she knows I'm a good student.  At this point I'm annoyed because she happens to be one of my worse teachers ever.  But I muttered a thanks and hung up the phone.  That was one battle I was not going to fight.

Walks on the beach.

For the past two Sundays I've taken walks on the beach (romantic, huh?).  And both those walks on the beach produced deep conversation with the person I was walking with.  In both these conversations I had a deep sense that God wanted me to impart truth on their hearts.  I fought to do so, even though I felt incapable.  At work, I'm the same.  A coworker asked if I liked my job the other day.  I'm guessing she's picked up on the fact that I'm always furiously typing an email, on the phone, or with a student whenever she walks in.  I was taken aback by her question, but I affirmed her that yes, I do enjoy what I do.  I want to help people, and gosh darn it, I'm going to do my job and do it well. 

I can't explain how I pick my battles.  I know I often pick the wrong ones, producing results I don't intend.  I know what Scripture says--that I am to deny myself, pick up my cross, and follow Him.  Yet that's a battle I don't feel like waging everyday. 

If there's one battle I should consistently fight, it's that of honoring my Father.  I seem to talk a lot about battles. It's unavoidable as a follower of Christ, yet also easily avoidable, if you know what I mean.  We don't want to be caught MIA.

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Marathon Log.06.  Miles logged: 8

This was my longest run ever.  Unfortunately I was rather annoyed with all the rain that fell, soaking me from head to toe.  I felt dumb for not bringing a baseball hat to keep the rain away, and I felt foolish knowing my cold could perhaps worsen from running in the rain.

So while I'm on the subject of things that annoy me, let me bring up the embittered debate over same sex marriages.  In recent months those who are believers have been confronted with the need to respond in Truth to Mayor Gavin Newsom's landmark decision to legalize homosexual relationships.  I myself participated in the "One Man, One Woman" rally last spring. 

I find myself annoyed because of the negative light believers are portrayed concerning this situation.  We are narrowminded, unable to tolerate those with an alternative lifestyle.   

The reality is, we as believers know that the Bible is opposed to homosexuality, and we are passionate opponents against it, but we really don't have a formulated defense as to why.  I know I didn't even have one.  And living in the liberal city of San Francisco I knew that I ought to.

So here is what I've concluded.  In our fallen world, mankind has "exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator" (Rom.1:25).  As believers, we believe in the centrality of God and the salvation found in Christ Jesus.  We believe that God desires good things for his children, and because we believe this, we trust that He knows what is good for us.  And the Bible is clear to state that what is good is marriage between one man and one woman. 

I pray that as I participate in the AIDS marathon and touch on a lifestyle that is often associated with the disease, the Spirit would remove the veil that blinds these hearts in believing the true and living God. 

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Walking Isn't for Woosies

Well, my cold only turned worse after Saturday.  I really despise getting sick because it tends to mess things up.  It makes things mah fan.

So being sick made me skip out on my coworker's baby shower, a day of work, and my Chinese class.  My running schedule is also affected because I couldn't get one of my weekly runs in yesterday.  This from a girl who's never skipped a day of school for being sick (that may make some of you else out there sick).   Somehow I always manage to tough out my illnesses.

I feel God telling me that I don't have to be so brave all the time.  I'd save the world superhero style if I could.  But wait a minute--God's already done that!  God is, despite my stubborness, my greatest Help.  I feel badly for zooming through life on turbo speed without much consideration as to my ultimate Sustainer.  That's how I feel my life has been lately.

So I took a thirty minute walk today instead of a run.  And a walker's pace ain't half bad.  I definitely had time to smell the roses (well, at least stare at the flowers) more, anyways.  There's a clearer sense of reality by taking the time to enjoy.  And we all need a good reminder now and then.

Marathon Log.05.  Miles logged: 7

The 7-mile run was a difficult one for me today.  Recently I've been battling a sore throat and general fatigue.  It's in these moments of weakness that I wonder what I'm running this all for. There's a part of me that loses sight of the hope that comes in finishing this thing.

If I didn't run whenever I didn't feel like it, I miss out on the victory of running through some crucial times.  There's something satisfying about sticking it through, even though you may feel like crap afterwards.

I listen to the conversations of my fellow runners during our weekly group runs.  I am confused how one can be devoted to the goal of running 26.2 miles yet still maintain a lifestyle that consists of getting wasted the night before.  If you're running this thing, you ought to live like it.  No dualities.

Being in the faith also means enlisting in a battle.  Following Christ involves picking up our cross daily and following Him.  The test comes when we don't feel like it.  Sometimes we end up faking it. 

Now, I'm not saying that I'm the Miss Goody-Two-Shoes of marathon training (or even in spiritual discipline).  In fact, sometimes I forget that I'm in for the long haul.  Enter grace.  Grace that is unmeasurable. 

So I'll continue to lace up those running shoes, brace the oncoming cold, and run like I'm running this thing for real.  Thankfully, I have the most awesome Personal Trainer.  He'll keep me in this thing.

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Marathon Log.04.  Miles logged: 6

I have an old ankle injury from my first missions trip five years ago.  Don't want to explain all the details here, but suffice it to say, it ended up being a more serious injury than first realized.  That same ankle has started to be bothersome again--enough to remind me that "oh yeah, I do have that old injury."  It seems to also negatively affect my knee on that same side (well, that's my unmedical assumption anyways).

Why talk about an old injury?  In life there's a continuous battle over things that we may believed to have put behind us.  Take for instance, my persistent struggle against my insecurities.  These insecurities seemed to swell in high school (and since I deal with so many high schoolers, I'm hoping this speaks to you...)

Wanting to be beautiful.  For a good part of my teenage years I could never look in a mirror.  I had glasses, braces, and an awkwardly lanky frame--not exactly Seventeen magazine material.

Wanting to be noticed.  I always managed to fly below the radar in high school--never cool, but never the bottom of the social ladder either--I could never stand out.

Wanting to be smart.  I've told this story often enough--wanting to graduate high school with the unrealistic expectation of a 4.0 GPA.  I ended up with a 3.92, which to me (NOTE: AT THAT TIME) was crushing.

Many of these insecurities have followed me to the person I am today.  I still manage to think my self-worth is tied up in other things.  As a teacher, I'm often desperately insecure in the classroom (I just want to be liked).  As a female, I want the affection of a husband and kids.  And in my spiritual life, I sometimes think I'm unworthy of God's patience and mecy.

As long as I'm on this earth, I'll always battle against my insecurities.  The experience of my God and King won't be perfected until that day that is to come.  Until then I'll hold to the truth that his grace is sufficient. 

[I did run 6 miles on Saturday and it was okay...]

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Marathon Log.03.  Miles logged: 5

I bought a Sleek Timex Ironman watch to help pace myself during my runs.  I fooled myself into thinking I had mastered operating the watch before I left for my run today.  I pressed the start button, and proceeded with my run as normal, excited about my nifty acquisition.  Some time passed, and as I glanced at my watch it dawned on me that I had set my watch at 5 hour intervals rather than 5 minute ones.  Argh!  I spent the next mile or so fiddling with the dumb watch and growing more frustrated as I tried to remember how I had set it in the first place.

I play the fool in life as well.  It's hard for me to be upfront with my weaknesses, and boy do I have a laundry list of them.  This week it was my pride that came to a head. I got into two heated discussions this week, one with my mom and the second with my sister.  I hate admitting that I'm wrong--in my eyes, I'm right all the time. 

I also come before the Lord believing that I have it right.  But God does not see as Sherise sees.  And it's seldom that I come before the Lord in genuine humility like the tax collector in Luke 18 who stood at a distance from the temple, in full realization of his sin.

I desire not to play the fool anymore.  I'll never get it perfect, yet God has a way of reminding me that I am a creature of grace.  I respond with my head bowed, thankful for his forgiveness. 

Weekly Chuffs.  chuff.  something that makes you happy--e.g., a bird ruffling its feathers in delight.

1.  A milk chocolate chip cookie from Specialty's.  [Oooh man]

2.  Former on-the-fence student turned good.

3.  A willing audience for my China pictures.

4.  Saying "hi" to the deli man.

5.  Helping a crying fashion student smile.

6.  An unexpected hug from a (female) coworker.

7.  Stumbling on an underground prayer ministry in existence where I work.

8.  Evading criticism (and even eliciting praise) from my Chinese instructor.

9.  An $8.99 Old Navy bag. 

10. Examining the reality of our God and his truth (thanks, sis).

Marathon Log.02.  Miles logged: 4

I hung up my ice skates in order to train for this marathon.

I'm far from being the next Michelle Kwan, but over the past year ice skating became a passionate escape--an attempt to unearth a childhood dream of mine.  In reality, the most I can do is skate backwards and stumble through a spin.  Still, running versus ice skating--I'd string up a pair of skates anytime.  Running is another matter.

God asks the same of us--to exchange that which is good for that which is better.  My problem is that I like to cling to what I claim as good because my faithless self can't fathom there being anything better.  Yet I'm glad that this life isn't all there is.  Because if it was, I'd be hard pressed to give up any good thing that came along.

Better is one day in His court than thousands elsewhere.  Amen!

Marathon Log.01.  The wind was brutal as I quickened my pace to make it on time for my first day of marathon training.  I was running late, and my desire to get off on the right foot was now a foregone resolution.

I only half concentrated during the initial pep talk.  I stared at the faces of those around me, in an effort to size up my "competition."  Surely I could run 26.2 miles in comparison to the older gentlemen on my left or the heavyset woman on my right.  Then I glanced at the guy next to me.  He already looked the part.  Fit, seemingly confident, and probably has run a million of these before.  I'm realizing that looking at others doesn't help.  I need to snap back to the reality of running my own race.

So I'm running a marathon (if you haven't caught on yet).  Most reactions to my endeavor have been disbelief giving way to subtle admiration.  For many, including myself, it's a sort of superhuman feat.  Maybe it's the restlessness of being a quarter centurian--I've always longed to do one of these things, and at the age of 25, I'm going to do it.

I'm running for a couple of reasons:

1. Life imitating sport.  Running this marathon is such a great metaphor for my life journey.  It's a personal means for which I will take close scrutiny of my own life and how I am running the race in pursuit of the eternal prize that awaits me. 2. Getting rid of the stigma.  The marathon that I chose to run is the AIDS marathon.  Why the AIDS marathon?  I confess I know little about AIDS.  To me, the disease carries a stigma.  Most believers wouldn't choose to participate in AIDS work as a form of ministry.  But as a believer in Christ Jesus I can't say that those stricken with AIDS do not deserve the kingdom of God.  God desires that all men are saved and come to a knowledge of His truth (1 Timothy 2:3).

Care to join me?  This isn't the typical means for which I have asked for your support, but as fellow runners in this race of life I'm inviting you to be a part. 

I'll keep you posted.

Spend a Day in My Shoes.  My day begins uninterestingly.  I wake up around 7:15 am, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, brush my hair, make my lunch, and head out the door. 

My commute to work means driving to my grandparent's house, walking down to the MUNI station, hopping on a train, and then walking 3 short blocks to my school.  Today I am running late.  I fumble for my fast pass before entering the turnstile, doing my best to avoid the campaigning politicians clamoring to pass out flyers to the morning commuters.

I stride across the station platform, catching a glimpse of the same guy that always seems to be on the same morning train as me.  There are no seats today on the train, so I stay standing, peering over some old notes from the Gospel of Luke while pressing my fingers gently against the wall of the train to stay upright. 

The train stops in the financial district.  I walk up the stairs to the street level--a conscious decision of mine to infuse some sort of exercise to my day.  I catch my breath once finally reaching the top and quickly glance at the clock positioned above the bank.  I'm on time.  I reach my school and flash my badge to the security guard that I introduced myself to over a week ago.  He seems to have never remembered that conversation, and I've since resigned to pulling out my badge each time I enter the door. 

My morning goes by swiftly.  As usual, I'm multitasking, never keeping a strict priority of items, but maintaining a semblance of order through a system of Microsoft Outlook reminders and Post-It notes.  This morning I am meeting with two students. My first student is a football junkie who doesn't typify an art student.  He's honest and eager to learn, yet somehow wound up on academic probation.  My second student is Korean.  She arrives in a flurry with her drawing board and also leaves in a flurry.  She seems more confident than when I saw her last semester, but I know she has a tough semester ahead. 

I like to spend my lunch hour alone, my favorite place being a block away in a public promenade.  It has become a sacred place to journal and read Scripture.  The time is always too brief, but it's a much needed retreat from my work day.  Today as I am reading the first two chapters in Luke I start to get excited to be studying this book.  It's the gospel directed to a Gentile audience that speaks of a personal Jesus who came to save a girl like me.

In the afternoon I switch offices to the satellite office down the street. It's quieter here, and on some days I'm bored to my numbskulls, but today I have lots to do in preparing for my class on Wednesday.  A student that was supposed to meet me on Friday winds up showing up today instead.  She's a fashion student with slight attention deficiency disorder looking for some help with time management.  She's already behind in her classes and a cynical part of me wonders if she can really pull it off this semester to get decent grades.   

I start reading a book on Adobe Photoshop for the Graphics Design class that I do the ESL support for on the train ride home.  I unintentionally doze off, maintaining just enough consciousness not to miss my stop.  Back at home I resolve to go running, debating in my head if I should run the full 4 miles around the lake or just half.  My legs carry me in the direction of only running half.  My legs today feel heavy, even though I know that I'm proven to run twice the distance.  

I impromptly start muttering under my breath in conversation with the Lord as I take my walk around the block to cool down.  There's much to speak to Him about, and in the midst of my day there is sometimes only faint acknowledgement of His presence.  But I know that He has been with me.  And though it's an ordinary day, it is a day that the Lord has made.  Sometimes I want more out of day for me to resolutely give Him thanks.  But He is more than enough, and I retire from my day pleased that He has been a part.